


If You Don't Know me by Now

by Mercury32



Category: Doom (2005)
Genre: F/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-18 21:38:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1443823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercury32/pseuds/Mercury32
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Samantha reads the letters that John wrote and never sent in an attempt to fill the blanks from the last ten years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Don't Know me by Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [x4ashes4ashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/x4ashes4ashes/gifts).



> For the wonderful x4ashes4ashes for inspiring this piece. I'm certain she wanted something fluffier, but these two are such angst-magnets it just didn't happen.

The box had been sitting in the corner of the lounge room for almost a month when Sam gave in and finally asked John about it. “What's with the box?”

“Personal effects.” He answered briefly, not looking away from the video game he was playing. “Congratulations, you finally got your wish of being an only child.”

“You know that wasn't what I meant.” Sam muttered. Her exact words had been 'Sometimes I wish you weren't my brother' and he'd never let her forget it, context be damned. “Personal effects?”

“The contents of my locker. I've been officially declared dead.” John did look up then, just in time to see Sam turn pale. “You know what that means then?”

She did, but she didn't really want to think about it just then. Instead, she grinned at him. “I inherit everything?”

“Something like that.” He sounded relieved, probably because she wasn't worrying about UAC. There was silence for maybe a minute while Sam tried to figure out the best way to ask about opening the parcel and looking inside. John glanced at her briefly, fingers moving over his game controller the whole time and nodded at the box. “Go on. I know you're dying to.”

Sam grinned at him, then dragged the box over to the space in front of the couch that wasn't already taken up by John and sat down, looking at it for a moment. The contents of the box would tell her more about his years in the Marines than he ever would. She'd tried asking a few times, but he inevitably shut down that line of conversation fairly quickly. There was a low chuckle, like John knew what she was thinking and embarrassed that he'd read her so easily, Sam ripped the packing off the box and opened the flaps.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but there wasn't much. An old hoodie that was so faded she couldn't make out the logo any more. About half a dozen blank postcards – New York, Alaska, Tijuana. A ridiculous amount of payslips, most of them unopened. Three or four manilla folders, a quick peek showed that it was mainly paperwork. She had a vague memory of someone telling her the paperwork in the Army was worse than the paperwork on Olduvai and it looked like he'd kept every single piece.

Under the manilla folders were two small wooden boxes. They were was covered in intricate carvings and a combination lock on the front. She picked it up, shaking it gently. It sounded like... either a collection of cards or letters. One way to find out for sure, Sam thought pressing the button that was meant to open the lock. Nothing. She looked at it thoughtfully, trying to figure out what the combination could actually be.

The box was taken gently out of her hands. John had paused his game and joined her. He looked at it for a second and

“What's in it?” Sam asked quietly, taking the second one off him and noticing that it was already unlocked. John didn't answer, but the corners of his mouth turned up slightly. Elbowing him gently, Sam opened the lid and saw an envelope addressed to John, care of the base, in her handwriting. She looked down at John, silently seeking permission and the half smile spread a little further across his face as he nodded slightly.

Carefully, noting how faded the envelope and ink was, Sam pulled a worn and frayed piece of paper out of the envelope.

“I hate to admit it, but I think you're right. No, I don't think that UAC are reading our emails or recording our calls, but maybe snail mail is for the best. It gives us a chance to think about what we're going to say to each other. The last video call was a mess wasn't it? You just looked so angry and I -”

“You kept this?” Sam looked up at John in surprise. “This is the first letter I sent from -”

“I know what it is Samantha.” He pointed out dryly. “I kept it remember?”

She barely heard him as she pulled out the rest of the envelopes and flicked through them. There would have been close to one hundred letters in there. “All of them? But why?”

“Why wouldn't I?” He challenged back. “Jesus Sam, I missed you. Do you think I'd just throw them out?”

“You rarely wrote back.” Sam pointed out, the old bitterness and hurt coming out again. “I wrote you every month. I kept you up to date on everything. And what did I get back? Either half a page of scribble or three pages that told me nothing. Thanks for that.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched, but when their eyes met again, his were calm. “It wasn't easy for me to write Sam. I didn't want to write to you about army life because I didn't want a lecture and I didn't think you'd be interested. There wasn't much left to to write about after that. I actually wrote that to you once.”

“I don't remember that letter.” She frowned, trying to remember. Like John, she'd reread his letters until she knew them by heart. There had been nothing about not knowing what to write to her about. John looked self concious. “I never sent it.”

“What?” Sam's voice was barely below a shriek and John winced. “I wrote. I wrote a lot more letters than I ever sent.”

He moved up to sit on the couch next to her and twined his fingers through hers. “Part of me was convinced that UAC would open them. You know I'm not good at expressing myself or talking about the important things. I'd write them and think 'I didn't explain myself very well, I'll rewrite it tomorrow. Or the out going mail would be collected and I'd tell myself that what I was doing couldn't be interrupted to get the letter from my locker. I didn't want to have to deal with any of the questions from the rest of the guys.'

“So many bullshit reasons.” Sam murmured, her feelings hurt. “Admit it, you were too scared to send them.”

“Yeah.” John answered, voice tight. “Yeah I was. Jesus Sam, I was only a kid. We both were. I didn't know how to give you what you needed from me. I don't even know if I could have. This isn't a Disney movie and I'm no Prince Charming.”

He squeezed her fingers then and stood, looking at the box that he was still holding and Sam could almost see the cogs turning as he came to a decision. Gently placing the box in her free hand, John brushed a kiss across her mouth. “Read these if you want to. I'll make you a coffee.”

He was gone before she could answer him. She settled back on the couch, her back against the arm and stretched her legs out in front of her, placing the box in her lap. Feeling strangely nervous, she pulled out the first envelope and gently removed the letter.

_I don't know whether this will make it into the media or not, but my last mission went to hell. I'm a bit banged up, spending a few days in hospital. There's no need to come down for this, I'm fine I promise. Although if you wanna come and kiss it all better, you know I'll never say no._

  
Rolling her eyes at the last sentence Sam checked the date. She had heard about it, through one of the admin officers who'd been on Olduvai when John and Sam had been kids up there. If anything involving John or his squad crossed his desk, he always made sure to let Sam know what was going on. She'd appreciated it a lot more than she'd ever let him know since she'd learnt fairly quickly that she couldn't rely on John to tell her anything.

  
She held out the piece of paper as he pressed her drink into her free hand. “Seriously not hurt or don't tell Samantha anything that will worry her?”

“Both.” John scanned the letter. “Large amount of superficial injuries. None of them on their own would have a been a problem, but all of them together was apparently a cause for concern. If it was serious, I probably would have let you know.”

“Probably.” Sam muttered under her breath. She didn't remember a single letter that actually brought up any injuries. She placed it carefully to the side and reached for the next one.

_'What do you want me to write Sam? Half the things that happen here are classified and the other aren't things to tell a woman anyway._  
 _Do you want to hear about how much I miss you? That I still dream of you every fucking night? Or that I'm not scared of death because what version of hell could worse than this life without you? What's the point? It won't change anything.'_

It continued along the same lines for half a page, John angrily talking about how much he missed her and hated being apart her, then finished abruptly with ' _I hope the path you've chosen is enough for you Samantha.”_

Biting her lip, Sam looked from the letter to John, who had returned his attention to the game, picturing the angry teenager he'd been then. She'd known that some of the things he'd written would hurt but now she realized just how badly she'd under estimated the depth of that anger and bitterness.

“I'm not going to apologise for how I felt Sam.”

“I don't expect you to.” It wasn't exactly a lie, she hadn't expected any apologies, but she'd hoped for them. Just something to acknowledge that his attitude had made the separation even more difficult. Sam looked at the letter again. “It wasn't enough.”

There was an explosion from the television. “I knew it wouldn't be. But you needed to figure that out for yourself.”

Unable to think of an answer that wouldn't make the tension between them worse, Sam moved on to the next letter.

_Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a chance to video call without an audience? And then you just reject the damn call? What the fuck Sam? Do you have any idea how much that hurt? Is this payback for upsetting you on the last call? I'm sorry babe, I really am. I never wanted to hurt you, please believe that. It's just hard seeing you and not knowing if I'll ever see you again_

“When I rejected that video call...” Sam took a deep breath and struggled to keep her voice even. “I had had a really rough day. I was being used as a pawn in department politics, I had been dealing with some pretty harsh bullying and a vital request for funding had been denied. If I had answered that call and you'd been anything less than completely sympathetic and supportive, it would have been more than I could handle. The last call had been messy enough, this one would have been worse."

  
“You never told me about any of that.” John's voice was deceptively calm and her gut told her that he was filing it away for future reference, that when the UAC manhunt died down a little bit, he'd make some quick phone calls to his contacts and request that they make life difficult for a few people. She wouldn't even have to give him any names or dates, UAC recorded everything and deleted nothing. There'd definitely be some forms or reports out there somewhere. “Why didn't you tell me about any of it?”

  
“What could you have done?” Sam shrugged in an attempt to remain casual. “You were Earthside, on base and dealing with your own shit. Besides you'd made it very clear that you didn't want to know what was happening up there.”

“Is that the justification you've come up with for not telling me you'd reopened the dig? You didn't think I'd want to know?” The anger was starting to leak through and she noticed his grip on the game controller had tightened. “You were right – you should have to me about the dig and you should have told me about the shit you had to deal with up there.”

“If I thought that I could have without having to deal with any of your crap, then I would have.” Sam's voice was as curt as his. “I wasn't going to give you everything when you were giving me nothing in return. Not again.”

She opened the next envelope, wanting, for once to have the last word. This one wasn't even stamped.

_I met a girl in the bar just off base a few weeks ago. We started drinking together and you know how these things end. You guys would get along really well I think, she's a lot like you. ~~Looks enough like you enough to fool me in the mornings when I'm still half asleep.~~ This could turn into something real and I can't figure out if I want it to or not._

“What the fuck made you think I wanted to hear about you getting a girlfriend?” Sam gave up on trying to control her emotions. “Are you serious? You found a substitute and wanted to rub my face in it?”

“That was exactly what I wanted to do.” He admitted. “I was angry, I was lonely, I was horny and for fucks sake, I was only nineteen! I wanted to hurt you, to make you think that I'd moved on.”

“Moved on?” She repeated, incredulously. “But choosing someone you could pretend was me?”

“I was nineteen.” John repeated patiently as though it explained everything. “It's pretty fucking obvious that I wasn't making the best decisions back then. I was fucked up Sam, I had been for a long time. Shit had gone down on deployment and I needed you.”

“That's why you wanted me to come down while you were on leave that time.”

“Yeah. I was hoping some time together would help me pull my shit back together.” There was note of bleakness in his voice that tugged at her gut. Sam rose and moved to stand between his legs, her hands resting on his shoulders. Before she could say anything, he surprised her by sliding to the front of the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach. Sam managed to hide her shock at the rare display of vulnerability and tried to comfort him. She couldn't say how long she stood there stroking his hair, running her fingers down the back of his neck and smoothing her hands over his shoulders, but she didn't stop under the tension eased out of him and his hold on her eased. “I'm sorry.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” She cupped his face in her hands and gently tilted his head up so he was facing her then lent down and kissed him on the mouth. “Don't ever be sorry for feeling.”

Sam could feel the moment John got control of himself and locked it all away again. There was a moment of disappointment until she remembered that what she'd just seen was more than John had probably let anyone see of himself in years. He was growing less taciturn with every passing day, but was far from what anyone would ever consider talkative. She allowed him to retreat and resettled herself on the couch. “Did you get what you needed from being with her?”

“Not exactly. Amanda reminded me how to laugh and helped me not be so angry all the time, but I didn't get the peace I needed when I was with her.” He paused for a beat. “Or any of the other women I dated.”

Dating was a subject that Sam didn't particularly want to get into herself right then for various reasons, so she decided it was time to return to the pile of letters.

You could have at least let me know you weren't doing to come. I sat there on my own like an idiot all night waiting for you to show. Great way to spend leave. Let's not bother going through the motions of trying to reschedule, I'll just make other plans next time.

“I never told you why I didn't show up that night did I?” She'd never planned to explain herself, but knowing what John had been going through at the time, she felt she owed him. He didn't answer for a moment and when she looked up at him, he'd returned to his game and Sam suddenly realized he had never asked for an explanation. “Oh my god, you didn't want to know the answer.”

“I didn't. I was scared of what you were going to tell me. I didn't want to hear that you'd moved on, put me behind you. Maybe you'd found someone else. I didn't want to know any of that. Not with the rest of what was going on.”

“It wasn't about you. It was all about me. I made it to the hotel and then I stood outside for twenty minutes trying not to panic. I didn't know why you wanted to see me after nearly two years of avoiding me.”

“I wasn't avoiding you.” He protested unconvincingly. Sam gave him a disbelieving look. “No of course not. All the things you were worried about, so was I. I didn't know if you'd met someone, if you'd decided that the Army was enough for you or if you were planning to beg me to stay.”

“I was never going to beg you to stay on Earth. I needed you to make that choice yourself, to choose me over them. I would never have accepted you living here and still working for them. I know you, you don't resond well to ultimatums. You would have chosen your career and things between us would have gotten even worse.”

Sam wanted to deny it, but she knew he was right. They'd fought about it before, when she'd first taken a position with UAC and it had ended with John joining the Army, doing his best to make himself inaccessible to her and Sam transferring to Olduvai in retaliation. It still rankled that he'd never asked though.

Taking a deep breath, Sam decided to let the topic drop and continue reading the letters. This was the first time John had opened up to her about how he'd felt during his Army years and she didn't want to close off the lines of communication or ruin any future potential for similar talks. Not that any of it changed anything, but she'd poured her heart out in her letters to John and it was satisfying to know that she hadn't been the only one suffering during their separation.

A lot of the letters were similar to the ones that he had sent – no real information about anything. There was a mention of his application to the RRTS, followed by news of his acceptance and what he hoped to achieve there. John may have originally joined the Army when he felt like he had no other place to go, but he'd certainly come to believe in what they stood for.

The next piece of paper wasn't in an envelope, but Sam opened it anyway, figuring it to be something scrawled in a hurry or an errant piece of paperwork. She certainly hadn't expected to see 'Certificate of Marriage' across the top of it. Assuming it to be a mock up or a mix up, Sam glanced over it so quickly that she almost didn't register John's name until she was past it. A cold prickly feeling ran from her scalp to her toes and when she spoke, her voice sounded like someone else. “John?”

“Hmm?”

“What the fuck is this?”

She didn't know if he'd been waiting for her to find it or if he'd forgotten it was there and the tone of her voice let him know that something was wrong, but he reacted immediately, turning off the television and turning to face her on the couch. “What's what?”

“You got married. You went and got _fucking married_? What the hell?” Sam was vaguely aware of John speaking and his hand on her ankle, but nothing he was saying was getting through to her at all. Married. Fucking married. All the things they'd talked about this evening, how she centred him, that he was scared she'd found someone else, how much he'd missed her and it hadn't occurred to him to mention he'd stood at the altar, looked another woman in the eyes and promised to love her forever.

“No Sam. **No**.” John's voice was urgent and it took her a second to realize she'd spoken out loud. “It was never like that. She's just a friend, she's only ever been just a friend.”

“But you married her.”

“Will you listen to me? Really listen and let me explain?” He spoke gently, but his fingers tightened around her ankle. Sam nodded. She had to hear it out, no matter what he was going to tell her. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” John was genuinely grateful. “She – Helena, her name is Helena – was a waitress at one of the bars we went to off base. Once she heard about my situation, she got all mother hen with me and we became close friends. The first leave I got after turning twenty-one, a bunch of us went to Vegas. I got blind drunk and woke up with a wedding ring on. There's never been anything like a romantic relationship between us, I swear to you.”

“So why not get an annulment? Or get divorce?”

“I don't know. I really don't. It was convenient for us both. We planned to, we really did, but then I got transferred and it just never happened.” He sounded thoughtful. “I really did mean to tell you about it, I just didn't know how. Jesus Samantha, how was I meant to tell you? You didn't tell me you'd reopened the dig because you didn't know how to say it or how I'd react. How the fuck was I mean to tell you that I'd gotten married?”

Very unwillingly, Sam conceded the point. It wasn't just that what he was saying made sense, it was that she hadn't heard that tone in his voice or seen that look in his eyes in years – not since they'd fought about her taking the job with UAC. Part of her wanted to argue, but she knew that John was right. If she hadn't been able to tell him about the dig site, then how on earth would he have been able to tell her that he'd gotten married?

“What's she like?” She was instantly mad at herself for not playing it cool and pretending she didn't care. John's brow furrowed. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yeah.” May as well be honest about it, she thought. Besides, she knew herself well enough to know that if she didn't ask questions now, she'd never have the courage to bring it up again and she'd never stop wondering about her – oh god – sister in law.

John was quiet for a moment and Sam suspected he was working out exactly what to tell her. “Hel's a bit... actually, she's kind of a bitch. I think she had to be to keep the servicemen under control. If you take the time to get past that and really get to know her, she's pretty warm and very loyal. An absolutely filthy sense of humour, especially once she's had a few drinks. She knows how to handle me and my issues. Spending time with Hel was easy, comfortable and I don't have that with a lot of people.”

“You trust her.”

“Completely. She's got a bigger hate on for UAC than I do and I would trust her with both my life and yours in a heartbeat.”

A few pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fell into place. “This is her house isn't it? This box of stuff was sent to her first and she's sent it on here didn't she? She's one of your contacts.”

“Yes. It's a long story, but yes, she knows we're here, she knows I'm alive and she keeps me updated. Like I said, I have complete trust in her.”

Sam closed her eyes and scrubbed her hands over her face. She'd had a lot to take in in a very short amount of time. John squeezed her knee. “Are you okay?”

A slightly bitter laugh escaped her. “You were right. I don't know you at all. I've learned more about you in the last hour than I think I ever knew about you.”

“C'mon Sam. None of that matters. Not what you've learned from the letters or what you knew before. I'm not that guy any more. I'm not who I was when we were kids and I'm not who I was in the military. I'm someone else entirely and there's no shortcut to getting to know and understand that person. You know that I love you, that I will do whatever it takes to protect you and keep you safe and that there's nobody else for me. The rest of it is just details and you'll learn them over time.”

“You're right.” Sam sighed. She just felt like so much time had been wasted already. John pulled her onto his lap. “It's no big deal Sam. You already know me better than anyone else ever will.”

“Including your wife?”

“Including my widow.”

Sam didn't find that a comforting thought at all.


End file.
